The Kill House
by Laura Castellano
Summary: Fill in scene for the Pilot. They settled it in the Kill House.


The Kill House

by Laura Castellano

first posted 21 Jan 2007

Rated PG for a tiny bit of language

Summary: Fill-in scene for the Pilot. They settled it in the Kill House.

A/N: This has been trying to get me to write it ever since I first saw the Pilot. I wasn't sure where I wanted to go with it, but then I tried to think the way Matt would think, and it all fell into place. I hope you enjoy it.

-----------

"What are you, in love with her?"

Frank's words took Matt by surprise, but he covered it well. He only stared in shock at his friend for a short moment before brushing off Frank's hands--and his question.

Frank, apparently seeing that Matt was in no mood to joke around, immediately made an executive decision.

"Let's settle this in the Kill House," he offered, grabbing a couple of practice rifles off the table and handing them to the men. "Duff's gotta score on you three times. You only gotta hit him once."

This time, Matt didn't hesitate. He accepted Frank's challenge with a confident, "Let's go."

"Duff comes in the front, you go in the back way," Frank instructed. "No smoke. We need to get this over with and get back to work."

Matt made sure his rifle was ready to go, then waited by the back door of their practice house for Frank's signal. When it came, he entered immediately. Matt worked his way across the room, securing it in the way he would attempt if a hostile gunman was stalking him. 

The Kill House was dimly lit, and he knew Duff had the advantage of having spent many more hours here than himself. On the other hand, Matt was pissed off, and when he was pissed, he could be a formidable opponent. 

Matt ground his teeth when he remembered Duff telling him he needed to "keep that bitch on a leash." The name-calling was the least of what he felt was a collossal insult to Emily. 

"Never met a man who could keep a woman like that on a leash," he muttered to himself, peering around the kitchen door to see if the room was clear. He was ready to go in when a tiny bit of movement against the far wall held him back.

Duff was there, almost invisible in the darkness with his black clothing. The man was able to stand unnaturally still, and in spite of his anger, Matt couldn't help but admire Duff. He was new to their team, but he was very good at his job. And as soon as Matt took his ego down a few pegs today, he'd could get to the business of fitting in. 

Matt grinned when he considered the possible fireworks if Duff ever said anything like that to Emily's face. She would cut him off at the knees--figuratively, of course--without batting an eye. Emily ate misogynistic fools for breakfast. Matt was pretty sure Duff had not been serious, because he had seen the man treating other women with respect and courtesy. Still, he needed to learn that wasn't how their team joked around. It wasn't--

Matt felt three quick, consecutive hits sting his shoulder. Crap! Caught off guard.

"Two out of three!" he yelled to the dark figure across the room, and Duff nodded, then seemed to disappear. Matt slipped his hand under his shirt to rub his shoulder where the paintballs had struck. 

That had simply been embarrassing. It was time to pull himself together.

Matt did, swinging around to where Duff had been only seconds ago. That darkened corner of the room appeared empty now as Matt approached it carefully. The reason why became apparent when Duff stepped out of the shadows behind Matt and leveled three more shots at his back.

This time, Frank was there to relieve them of their weapons. Duff clapped him on the shoulder in a friendly gesture on his way out of the Kill House. "Better luck next time," he grinned.

Matt just stood there in the middle of the room, now empty except for himself. So far, this day wasn't turning out well at all. He'd expected to at least hold his own with Duff, but the younger man had managed to neatly hand him his ass on a platter without even breaking a sweat.

"Good thing he handles a gun better than he handles his mouth," Frank commented when Matt emerged from the Kill House.

"Yeah. What was that all about?"

Frank just shrugged. "He's young. He'll learn. He really admires you both, believe it or not."

Matt raised his eyebrows a bit at that, but said nothing.

"What I'd like to know," Frank continued in an oh-so-nonchalant voice as he began disassembling the weapons on the table, "is what your reaction was all about."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes you do. I thought you were gonna punch me for a second there."

"For a second there, I was."

Frank stopped what he was doing, rested his hands on the table and leaned across it toward Matt. "We've been friends a long time now," he began. "You know if there's anything--"

"There's nothing I want to talk about."

"Okay," Frank said after digesting that a moment. "That's cool."

Matt waved a goodbye, but his mind was already on Emily. His anger hadn't burned itself out with the paintball fight. In fact, it had barely gotten started. What he needed...

He turned and glanced back at the Kill House before leaving the room.

What he needed was to do something that would eradicate the memory of Duff kicking his butt so quickly it was laughable. A new memory, a better one, could do that. Something involving Emily. In fact, maybe what he ought to do was bring Emily here tonight, after everyone else was gone, and get in a little one-on-one with her.

He smiled a little at this idea, and decided to kick it around in his head for the rest of the afternoon. By the time they met that evening, he'd have a full battle plan in place. First he'd take her by surprise, then he'd wear her down, and eventually, victory would be his. Emily wouldn't stand a chance. Maybe afterwards, they could even do some firearms practice, if she wanted to. Just to make it legit and all.

He sure hoped Cheryl never found out about it, though.

End 


End file.
